


Walk of Shame

by Marishna



Series: Drips, drops and drabbles - significant moments of insignificantness [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anonymous Sex, Consensual, Consent is Sexy, Drunk Sex, M/M, Mutual Pining, One Night Stands, Walk Of Shame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-03-21 04:49:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3678186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marishna/pseuds/Marishna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles woke slowly, head swimming enough to make the room spin.  </p><p>He wasn't in his bed.</p><p>His room.</p><p>His underwear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1_million_words prompt "walk of shame" on LJ

Stiles woke slowly, head swimming enough to make the room spin. 

He wasn't in his bed.

His room.

His underwear.

He was, however, under a very well muscled, dark hair-covered arm. And behind him was, presumably, the rest of the body it was attached to.

Stiles had feelings from the night before, rather than straight-out memories. A distinct triumphant, "Score!" was reverberating in his brain.

Stiles slithered out of the bed slowly, not wanting to wake his bedmate up and have the awkward morning after convo. He saw his pants and underwear on the floor and pulled them on quickly before turning around in a circle to locate his shirt. 

When he finally focused and actually _saw_ who he spent the night with… well.

" _Score_ ," he whispered to himself. He wanted to take a pic as proof, cause Scott was never going to believe he caught a guy this hot, but he wasn't that gross, no matter how much his brain pleaded with him.

He thought about leaving his number on the dude's desk, maybe searching his pants for a wallet to find his licence so Stiles would have a name, at least (he thought it started with a D?) but he knew what this was. 

Fun. 

Mind-numbingly hot fun. His ass could attest to that, as it protested to him while he left the room silently and took the stairs down from his "date's" fourth floor dorm room.

When he got outside he realized he wasn't too far from the apartment he shared with Scott so he set off, campus almost silent at 8am on a Saturday.

He was a couple blocks away when a black Camaro raced up beside him, and screeched to a stop crookedly on the sidewalk in front of him. The passenger side window rolled down to reveal his one night stand. 

Bed hair, overgrown five o'clock shadow, and wrinkled undershirt all included at no extra charge.

This wasn't the way it went in movies. At least not the ones Stiles watched.

"Uh."

"You left," the dude said.

"Isn't that how it's supposed to go?"

"I guess? I don't really know, never done this before."

Stiles eyed the "parking job". "Clearly."

The dude rolled his eyes. "Want to get breakfast?"

Stiles blinked. "Really?"

"Why not?"

Stiles looked down at himself, only saw his usual jeans, graphic tee and plaid shirt, and he knew his hair was nothing short of a mess. He looked up at the dude who was waiting expectantly, even… eagerly?

"Sure?"

"Get in."

Stiles did as he was told, slid into the plush passenger seat, and saw the dude completed his ensemble with plaid pyjama pants. 

"Um," Stiles started as they got back on the actual road. "This will probably sound really, really bad but, um, what's—"

"Derek," the dude said, awkwardly offering his left hand across his chest and the movement pulled the undershirt tighter across his muscles.

Stiles ignored the heat pooling in his groin, took Derek's hand and grinned. "Stiles."

"Nice to meet you," Derek replied and smiled back. "Officially."

Stiles snorted. "I'm okay with meeting you more than once."

Derek didn't say anything but looked slyly at Stiles sideways. "Don't suppose you want to do a drive thru breakfast and go back to my room?"

Stiles held back a fist pump and choked out, "Yeah, okay. Sounds good."

"Sounds good," Derek echoed.


	2. So walk this way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before he opened his eyes Derek could tell something felt wrong. 
> 
> He opened one eye slowly, it burned and he immediately shut it again and groaned. 
> 
> “Fucking Erica,"Derek muttered into his pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write the Derek POV to this fic since I published it so here it is!
> 
> [Taking prompts for the month](http://marishna.livejournal.com/805275.html)! Can include TFLN, lyrics, scenarios or requests for other fics of mine to be continued to better help me focus!

Before he opened his eyes Derek could tell something felt wrong. 

He opened one eye slowly, it burned and he immediately shut it again and groaned. 

“Fucking Erica,"Derek muttered into his pillow.

That didn't smell like him.

That guy.

“ _That guy,_ "Derek breathed and sat up, way too quickly. He swayed a bit as he swung his legs over the side of his bed and felt where his mattress was still faintly warm from someone else's body.

He had vague recollections of smooth skin dotted with moles and a loud, wild laugh. Fingers—long, talented fingers. 

His dick remembered those fingers as it twitched interestedly at flashes of memories surfaced in his mind. Meeting at the party after Erica challenged Derek at beer pong that he's just so fucking shitty at because he always overcompensates with brute force instead of precision. Getting introduced by Isaac who was in the dude's... comparative lit course? Intro to American Mythology? Spanish? Derek had no idea. 

He just remembered thinking that this guy was the most beautiful thing he'd seen in a long time and somehow that led to them stumbling through Derek's dorm room door with hands and mouths all over each other.

He remembered being coherent enough to make sure the other dude was on board with whatever they were going to do and the intensity of those whiskey-gold eyes burning into his was forever imprinted on his brain.

After that everything was incredibly hazy but his body was covered in hickeys and scratches and his stomach is kind of flakey with dried come but he's _relaxed_ and calm. He stretched and felt his body ache in places that hadn't in a while.

And the guy who did that for him...

“Shit,"Derek cursed and launched himself off the bed. If his sheets were still warm the guy couldn't have gotten far. Maybe he could ... follow him? Find out his _name_?

“Jesus Christ, Derek,"he cursed at himself as he grabbed a pair of pj pants from under his bed and an old undershirt from his laundry pile. It didn't smell overly offensive, no more than he already did so fuck it. He grabbed his wallet and keys, shoved his feet in his sneakers and ran out of his dorm.

He had no idea which way to go so he guessed and turned towards the apartment buildings most students lived in off campus. Derek didn't care where he lived and preferred the convenience of being on campus.

He chose right because within five minutes he saw a somewhat familiar figure on the sidewalk. He screeched to a stop beside him, parking at a crazy angle in front of him, blocking his path.

His one-night stand looked at him curiously. He got out of the car, suddenly very unsure of himself.

“Uh,"said the guy. His hair was sticking up every which way and his clothes were beyond wrinkled. 

"You left," Derek said, obviously.

"Isn't that how it's supposed to go?" 

Derek swallowed hard and shrugged. "I guess? I don't really know, never done this before."

The guy cocked an eyebrow at his 'parking job'. "Clearly."

Derek rolled his eyes at the sarcastic judgement. "Want to get breakfast?"

The guy blinked. "Really?"

"Why not?"

Derek watched as his would-be paramour looked down at himself, as if assessing the situation. Derek waited with somewhat baited breath, hoping for the best. He didn't do this, ever. Expecting too much from it would be his penance if this didn't work out and—

"Sure?"

Derek blinked and nodded at the car. "Get in."

"Um," The guy started when Derek pulled back onto the road. "This will probably sound really, really bad but, um, what's—"

"Derek," he said, reaching across with his left hand to offer a handshake. He couldn't help but notice the way his well-muscled chest got a lingering look.

He took Derek's hand with a smile and said, "Stiles."

"Nice to meet you," Derek replied and smiled back. "Officially."

Stiles snorted. "I'm okay with meeting you more than once."

Derek didn't say anything but looked slyly at Stiles sideways. "Don't suppose you want to do a drive thru breakfast and go back to my room?"

Something weird happened with Stiles' face but he nodded eagerly. "Yeah, okay. Sounds good."

"Sounds good," Derek echoed.


End file.
